And Then She Was Two

Today is Miriam's second birthday. How time does fly.

I have so much I want to say, could say about this little girl who has blessed our  famiy immeasurably. I can't quite articulate it though. We are ALL forever better because she came into our lives. Our daughter, their sister... our family needs her as an intricate piece of the whole. She never ceases to amaze me. She is smart as a whip, sassy, sweet, loving, hilariously funny, and oh so adorable.

And today for her birthday, we let her call the shots. Donuts for breakfast, pizza ("piah") for lunch, peanut butter and jelly for dinner, and three pieces of ice cream cake (it HAD to be ice cream cake. Spencer tried valiantly to change her mind.)

Birthday Lunch

Birthday Nap

Birthday presents *and an ever helpful Ezra*.

"Miriam! You are TWO!" 

Much cake was demanded. 

So pretty! 

Birthday Bath to bring it home! 

At two years old Miriam: 

speaks in four word sentences, often to tell off a naughty brother.

is very addicted to her binky (pronounced "be-be").

loves babies, legos, dress up, drawing and reading books.

like "Go Dog Go" and Curious George books best. 

isn't big into eating anything unless it's sweet. We're working on meat. 

sleeps great in her crib, but has to be moved from OUR bed after she falls asleep. 

loves ice cream. (Duh.) 

won't keep her hair *mullet* in hair ties. She lets me put them in, then pulls them right out. 

loves to look cute. 

picks our her own clothes and shoes. 

Happy Birthday my sweet girl! 

Update From the Tiny Farm on the Hill

Well. Things are moving right along.

School is continuing to be a challenge as the weather is turning warmer. I knew it would be this way. But we have to keep on it. It's not easy convincing those little boys to sit still long enough to get it done. We'll keep at it.

Our little micro farm is growing. The seeds are starting to poke their way heavenward (minus the few that Ezra accidentally knocked onto the porch. Oops. Maybe they'll grow there anyway.

The trees we planted don't seem dead yet. That is hopeful.

The chickens are fat.

The dog is lazy, except for this evening when we were chasing chickens and he decided he wanted to participate. We can NOT have that. No sir. I'm pretty sure he would have killed a chicken if he'd caught one, not necessarily on purpose, but still. But he was stopped and sent in the house. But it was some drama! Oh my!

We're in serious talks trying to actually add MORE creatures to our little place here on the hill. Maybe we are crazy. Maybe. But dreams are coming true, and that is what we are here for. There is so much delight in the few "farm" chores we have. The boys don't seem to tire of them. So we're counting our blessings, embracing the little corner of the world we've worked so hard for. It's wonderful.


($10 prize if you can guess what is all over my shirt!)

Miriam was plagued with a high fever for three days, and so we headed to urgent care on Mother's day. Now, we are squirting antibiotics down her throat twice a day. Thank you ear infection! She's much improved. Not that she was acting sick in the slightest, minus the 103 degree fever, because she wasn't. She was behaving as bright and sunny as ever. Dork-butt.

So, yes. There is the update.

The Week in Review

We "celebrated" Valentine's Day this week with pink waffles and cookies. These are good things. Except no one liked the pink waffles. Whatever, there is only so much Momma can handle in a day. People wishing the waffles weren't pink is SO NOT ONE OF THEM.







Henry has started Karate this week. He is LOVING it.

Spencer and Henry are also doing piano lessons. They are working hard and liking it most days.

Oliver is trying desperately to find his place in our family, and we're stuggling. We are doing school a bit with him, and trying to let him help as much as he's wanting (starting the dishwasher, the washing machine, etc) but it's a challenge for my little middle. I hope we get there.

Ezra is going to make me potty train him sooner than not. I just want to, but he wants to. It's a tough thing.

Miriam Anne turned six months old this week.

This is hard for me to believe.

Miriam is a light and a joy. We are grateful for her.

Swinging (In a non-dirty way!)

Oh goodness friends. I gotz to throw this here post up with a quickness. Miriam isn't going to tolerate her swing too much longer.

Swing you say?

Yes. Swing.


See, many years ago, we bought a swing for Henry. He HATED it. Oh so much. In fact he continued to hate ALLLLL swings until after age two. Now he likes them.

Spencer liked swinging at the park, but didn't care for it as a stay-at-home activity.

Therefore, we gave the swing away, declaring that all babies of ours would hereafter and henceforth hate swings.

Enter Miriam.

This child. I tell ya.

She will NOT sleep unless she's moving. (Night time... we're working on.)

I can NOT parent four other children while bouncing her on my yoga ball.

I love to have her in the sling, but even that is not easy to do when you're cooking, doing laundry, etc.

So.

Enter the swing.

I am generally anti-baby-devices. I figure, I got boobs, I got a sling, I got a car seat , I'm all set.

Well. Color me a liar. I friggin' love this stupid swing. Yes, I tell her darn brothers to stay out of/off of/away from the swing 87 times a day. But, know what? It's ok. Because my baby girl will NAP now. It's brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

I love you, Swing. Thank you for your service.

Growing Pains?

It's rough, a sweet tiny daughter who doesn't have clue that night time is for sleeping.

Last night, instead of sleeping, we watched Friends on DVD. (Season 6, disc 1, in case you were wondering. "I'm SO DRUNK!").

Anyway, suffice it to say I'm very very tired.

The joys outweigh the exhaustion. The sweet tiny baby moments that do not last nearly long enough. They grow and change before your very eyes, these tiny people!

The biggest joy (and frustration, if I'm being 100% honest) is how hard these boys love Miss Miri.

They love her. A lot. Ezra throws absolute tantrums if I carry Miriam into his line of sight and do not let him hold her. He sits on the couch, bangs on his thighs and screams "BABY!"repeatedly until I hand her over. There's no point in ignoring him. It's not worth the fight.

And Henry who says 123 times a day, "I LOVE OUR BABY GIRL!" And he does.

Spencer has taken to calling her "Meers" which... I don't entirely understand, but he says with with SUCH affection, I really can't get too grumpy.

And Oliver. Oh Oliver. He just wants to touch her.Touching her would be fine, except he has a snotty nose and I desperately want to keep Miriam from getting a cold.

I beg and beg him to please NOT touch her. And he really can't help himself.

But today, I was battling the sleepy, and Miriam had passed out after nursing, so I'd laid her in the recliner, and I was just taking a moment to sit on the couch and breathe.

Oliver, assuring me he would not touch, climbed up next to her and "read" her three different books, before he kissed her (sigh) and went off to play.



It was completely adorable.

We're definitely ironing out some wrinkles as a family of seven. The number of melt downs a child has 8in a day seems to be directly proportional to how old they are. (Henry: 1-2, Spencer:3-4, Oliver: 5-10, Ezra: cried all morning). But the moments like this make it all okay.

We're getting there.

Nesting.

Oh friends.

That old pregnancy reality has hit.

Nesting.

See, we put all four of our boys in one room. Because we like to do that.

No, really, it's so hot it's like we live in hell right now. And our house is so special that we can't run too many electrical devices at once or we pop circuits. So with the heat, we've got them all in one room with a window unit a/c to keep them from baking.

That means that that we had an empty room RIGHT ACROSS THE HALL from me.

Which meant that regardless the fact that kidlets sleep in MY room for months (and months and months) Baby Girl needed a room. For her CLOTHES ALONE. (OH my baby girl).

So, she got a room.



And what with my budget being small ($0) it was so much fun (I'm being completely serious) making a room out of things I already had. Curtains? Old bed sheet. I love it. It's about 100 degrees in there so she'll never EVER sleep there but I still love it.

THEN the boys, well, I felt guilt. I mean, SHE (who isn't even here yet) gets her own room. And I shove them all into a room like it's summer camp? (Albeit a nice cool breezy summer camp.)

So, once again I nested their room right into the bat cave.  They LOVE it. And I didn't even take a picture but seriously, all I did was make them batman curtains. And BAM. Bat Cave.

THEN (oh I'm so sorry, did you think I was DONE? No.) I realized that I could not allow this baby to come into our family with my hoarding room looking the way it did.

Wait, Morgan, did you just say "hoarding room"? Yes. It's supposed to be an office. But it was just a room that I would stay away from at all costs.

Except now? After an intense weekend, it's an office. And the hoarding room is no more.


THEN  (HAHAH!) the trouble was everything that came OUT of the hoarding room was now in the storage/laundry room, which made the room unuseable. ONE MORE DAY (and I made Derek help!)  and wham-o, a storage room I am not ashamed of.



(Everything I needed to sort/store. Oh my.)





Gorgeous, right?

Basically, I'm insanely nest-y. My kitchen floor is in dire need of a mopping, but dang it all to heck, everything else is in perfect condition.

My next goal is to keep the laundry sorted and put away, because a baby can't possibly come if my laundry is in baskets.

Five weeks from today is the due date. So, I have five weeks to learn to put laundry away as soon as it comes out of the dryer. Do you think? Can I do it?

The First One

I tried valiantly to get the picture of JUST the baby dress... but then decided the beer-gut was appropriate as it IS the first completely project for baby girl.

This sweet little dress is NEWBORN size and look at how wide it is. I used a vintage reprint from the 1950's. Were babies in the 1950's just fatter? I need to call my grandmother and ask her.

But I love how it turned out, and I loved making it. Every stitch. And every stitch removed as well. I finally got it all done today (it took me a week!). The only major mistake? I melted the lace on the back ironing it. Apparently, the fabric is cotton, but the LACE that is on the fabric is synthetic. Super NOT cool. Luckily it was salvageable. But not before I had a minor panic attack.

Anyway, won't she look pretty at her blessing?